Ballad of the Fallen Angels
by frozeneyes
Summary: WIP. Here lies the untold tale of an elven heroine & the journey she takes to meet her destiny, dedicating herself in aiding the Fellowship in their great quest to destroy The One Ring of Power. Please remember to Read & Review. Thank You.
1. Prologue: Aftermath of the Last Alliance

_(Thanks very much for taking interest in this story. It is my hope that you will enjoy it and continue to read as this is my very first piece LOTR fiction. I guess I shall go ahead and say that the majority of the events and characters that will be involved in this story is property of Tolkien and I in no way pretend that they are mine. But there are two originals that you will quickly be introduced to that I did create. I am open to constructive critism and commentary. Especially since I am not as deeply versed in Tolkien lore as many are and I do realize I am not the most amazing writer out there. So any suggestions, you know, anything I can learn to get better at this is always deeply appreciated. So without further ado I give you the prologue..)_  
  
**Prologue: Aftermath of the Last Alliance**  
  
After decades in darkness, on the fields outside Barad-Dur, Sauron, enemy of the free peoples of Middle-earth fell. This story is well known, the travels and deeds of the Fellowship were born on a single decision made that day in the bowels of Mount Doom. But that war, and those lives were only part of the story. What wasn't known was that a single man, robed in a shroud of blue, his long white beard blowing in the breeze under his hood picked his way through the dead, dying, and wounded. Finally he came upon the body of a lone elf amidst many dead orcs. Nudging it with his staff, he knelt down and removed the soldiers helmet. The soldier was a she, one of the few women who marched onto this field. Placing his hand under her damp blond hair the old man smiled. She had never met him, and in truth, he had never met her though he knew her quite well. Placing a waterskin to her mouth, his gentle voice stirred her.   
  
"Drink, you are exhausted." He urged.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, for exhausted she surely was. She wasn't even certain that she was still breathing until the voice had coaxed her back into the waking world. The elf looked up to match a voice with a face. Eyes as green as new lush grass studied the weathered man in curiousity as she drank from the waterskin. Weakly, she spoke to him in her native tongue.   
  
"Who are you?" She wondered.  
  
Speaking back in fluent elvish, the old man whos face could barly be made out smiled underneath his hood. "My name has been known as many things to many people, but you shall know it now as Shentar. Rest easy, for Sauron has been defeated. Middle Earth is safe for the moment, you have won." His voice was a kindly sort, though behind it was the ability to be commanding and powerful.  
  
"Rest I will, but at what cost have I, or my people won.." She replied with a tone of despair in her voice as she noticed all the dead around them. Many were the enemy, true, but still many others were now the lifeless bodies of her kin. She struggled to sit up. For an elf, she was still a young and somewhat stubborn creature, again she addressed Shentar. "I thank you for your kindness, you may address me as Androthiel."   
  
"I know of you, and of the fate of Middle Earth. Truly your words could not be more true, the death of Sauron will bring an age of peace to Middle Earth. The heroes of this battlefield gave their lives so that others may live... but this I fear is only a temporary solution for ones such as you and I. The Ring... will not see the fires of Mount Doom this day." He said, standing before removing his hood. He was old, yes, with a kindly look about his face. His staff was wood laced with gold and pearl, curling around a sapphire at its top. He looked somewhat distant as a small smile found his face, warming it. "But that can't be helped now."  
  
Androthiel found her strength returning slowly but surely. She managed to come to a stand, her green eyes, ever bright and glittering. Her porcelain skin was untouched except for a sheen of sweat and a smudge of dirt upon her cheek. She had faired well. "And is that why you have appeared? To tell me of these things?" She questioned, uncertain of his motives.  
  
"Perhaps yes, perhaps not." He said, leaning a little on his staff. "That will depend on the answer you give me now. Do you love this world? Enough to forsake your place among the people of your age to save it? The new elves have risen, a new dawn to a new age is on the horizon. Do you have the endurance to give even more? More then this?" The wizard said, his hand swinging wide to emphasize the surrounding battlefield.  
  
A slight breeze passed through, kissing her hair as she looked about them. She was silent for a time, taking in and weighing his words. She would do just about anything to chase shadow from this world. That's why she had insisted on marching in this last alliance. But little good did it seem to do..and still she had to hope..She looked to the wise man in the blue robes.   
  
"I would." She said with conviction. "I would do whatever neccessary if it meant salvation for all. The past is set..I would wish the lives of my kin were not given in vain." Her ageless face was clear with resolve.  
  
His smile seemed to hold something different now, a certain seriousness. "And face the ages of this world without peer? You make a brave sacrifice and only because of this will I ask you a second time, are you sure? Will you be able to watch your family, your kin, and your lover sail away on white ships for a battle that will not come for a thousand years? For a battle that may very well this time be truly hopeless?" His icy blue eyes now seemed to pierce through her soul with a sharp cold, his tone growing sharper and more intense.  
  
She did not look away. "Nothing is hopeless." She said softly. Androthiel grew quiet again, but after further thought she was sure that she believed this and that her word was her bond. She could not doubt, not if it could spawn something greater then death and darkness. "I will..I will. Yes, I trust that it would be better in times to come. I would make such a sacrifice. I have to hope it would make a difference."  
  
"Then so be it." His voice filled the air as his arms flew into the sky like wings. The voice carried louder then it perhaps should have, and the old man suddenly looked emmense, more powerful then any mortal man could possibly be in nature. "Then let Androthiel see the coming of the dark!" The ground almost seemed to rumble as his voice grew darker in the form of black speech. It was the ring, the words of Sauron himself.   
  
One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie.   
  
Each word stung the elf maidens' sensitive ears and she felt a cold chill creep into her heart. And just as suddenly the wizard fell, weak, and hunched over his staff. There was a small laugh, weak and weary as he looked up at her. "Very good, Androthiel... very good indeed. You very... very well might make a difference afterall."  
  
The elf stared at the wizard with a real look of confusion. What manner of devilry was this? Had she been made a fool or was it simply her youth that left her blind to the truth of his actions?  
  
"Come now Androthiel, you have seen more evil today then simple words no matter how ancient." The wizard said, raising his hood again as he watched the toll the true black speech took on the elf. "So close to his home, but I have little fear that those words can bring us any further pain. Except if you count the orcs approaching us from the other side of that rocky jag there. Survivors of the battle..they carry flasks of elf blood, their greed has overpowered their cowardess. They feed cruely on the dead and the dying, one last bounty before retreating into the dark places of this Middle-Earth and perhaps the beginning of your new life." He said, and surly a small group of orcs came, their black lobster like armor cruel under the red glow of Mount Doom. The wizards back was to them as if a narrator to some dark play.  
  
The elf's jaw was set but the look in her eyes was a pained one. "I have to admit, you are like a puzzle to me Istari.." Having little more of a grasp of what was going on now. "..a puzzle I don't think I shall solve in this age..or any which follow." She drew her sword and watched as the orcs approached.   
  
"One is not expected to make sense of the affairs or minds of wizards, only to trust. That may one day even change as well." He said, his voice low as he seemed not to care at all about what was happening around him, as if this was not something he was even present for.   
  
The voice of an orc rang out in its dark speech as it saw the elf woman and the robed figure. Another yelled out as well. "Look.. she's a pretty thing that one is, aye. I reckon her bones... juicy marrow... and the look of her. Elven woman..." It said to its companions before calling out to her as they approached. "Hey, Alfar... we're going to have fun with you. You're going to scream."   
  
The low voice that came then was actually surprising, the statue like figure spoke out still without turning. "I think you'll be surprised." He then spoke in words she could not recognize, but they gave the creatures pause as they muttered among themselves before continuing forward.  
  
She took a few light steps forward and stopped, waiting for their attack. her fine sword at the ready as they moved in on her. She gracefully manuevered around their blows and swung her weapon in an arch, taking of one of the orcs heads clean off it's gnarled shoulders.  
  
The wizard smiled, not watching the battle but apparently knowing exactly what was happening as Androthiel swung her blade as if it were her dance partner, the elegance of the elves. The others attempted to box her in, but to no avail. She swung her blade back and forth in a silvery shimmer of steel, making quick work of two more. She was too cunning for these foul creatures. Too careful to be taken down. With a few more quick, graceful movements her enemies lay dead at her feet. Her weapon slathered in black blood. She looked grim.  
  
Only now did he turn, only after the skirmish was won. He inched forward still leaning heavily on his staff, passing her by. His voice rang out behind him to reach her ears. "So, Androthiel, if not onto the white ships, where do you go now from Mordor... their are only two other then you who remain behind. Only two." He said as he stopped waiting for her to catch up with him.  
  
She sheathed her weapon as she sprang up beside him. "I know not. I may wander..my feet would know where I am needed." She said. "There is a path, hidden from my eyes, but it is already there. Layed before my feet." She watched the wizard keenly. "But does that matter? I am to trust, am I not?"  
  
"Yes.." He said, a warm smile again lighting his face, it was the only part of his face visable again from under the hood. "You have time enough. I may as well tell you that your leaders, your king and queen will stay behind to guide the new age of elves. Elrond and Galadriel... you are not as alone as you might have believed. Learn all you can about this world, Androthiel. For tomarrow the Ring of Doom will be lost. I have seen it."  
  
Her bright eyes looked on ahead as she walked and she nodded her head gracefully in grim acknowledgement of his words.   
  
"You will see me again before the end. When it is time, I will come..if I still can. Take this sword in the meanwhile." He said, lifting his other hand from within the folds of his robe, producing a fine elven blade, slightly curved. "It only waits for a name, its old one has been forgotten..by even your people. I came upon it here in Mordor, I think it might serve you well. Grace be with you, Androthiel of the first elves, now half elven. Grace be with you." He said drawing his robes around himself and walking the opposite way from the elf maiden.   
  
Androthiel stared long and hard at the fine curved blade in her fair hands. Her brows knitted together as she half turned and watched Istari leave her standing amidst the bodies of the fallen...her future already awaiting her.  
  
_(Continue onto Chapter 1: A Darkness Grows. Please Read and Review)_


	2. Chapter 1: A Darkness Grows

_(So there won't be too much confusion I would like to state that this story is a mixture of both the book and the film trilogy. So if something is different this may be why. And in places further down the road it might take drastic turns from the War of the Ring, without, of course, damaging what Tolkien created (I hope). I am still reading the book though so we'll see how it goes. I haven't completely mapped out everything yet so it's a mystery to even me. ;))_  
  
**Chapter 1: A Darkness Grows**  
  
It was a beautiful day in Imladris, a few nights prior Androthiel had discovered Frodo Baggins on the bank of the river Bruinen with his face to the Earth. Asfaloth had been standing watch over him ever since Elrond had flooded the Loudwater. She had called to one of others in her party and told them to ready a room and inform Lord Elrond that the Ring-Bearer was being brought in. At once the messenger left to inform the Lord of this news. The she-elf remained and checked the Hobbit's wound with a grave concern before she lifted Frodo in her arms, and took him deep into the heart of Rivenell. Now he was in the care of Elrond and there was nothing more to be done but wait, although she had a strong feeling he was already on the mend.   
  
She walked quietly through the great halls of the Last Homely House in thought. Many had arrived and were still traveling to make it here for the Council. How strange it was indeed to see her home so busy with so many different faces. Her kin from other elven realms, the likes of the Dwarves, and Men as well. She wondered what exactly would come of it all. How would these very different races react to one another?   
  
Her flaxen hair was loose about her shoulders and she was draped in rich garments of jade and plum that seemed to shimmer with her every fluid movement. Her large green eyes fell on a painting of the last alliance, before Isildur had cut the one ring from Sauron's hand. Her eyes shown like the silver circlet upon her fair brow and her mind wandered back to those days, the battle and the Istar. She did not acknowledge the approach of another behind her. For she was well aware they would break the silence on their own.  
  
"Isildur. Never have I seen such a likeness even in the halls of my home where he was once King." The voice spoke, it was a strong voice and when he took his place beside her she knew all too well whom spoke to her. His name was Boromir, the eldest son to the Steward of Gondor, and a warrior of some renown. "Truly a wonder." He finished as he continued to appraise the painting with a look of wonder.  
  
Androthiel turned just slightly so that she could fully regard Boromir. Her face was fair and youthful, but her eyes held great wisdom in their depths. She looked back to the painting. "The artisans of the Valley are greatly skilled in capturing history." She commented, her voice soft and silky, a pleasant sound. "Yes. I believe it is a faithful resemblance." Some hint of mystery in her words. She walked slowly onward, her light feet making no sound, she appeared to glide across the floor. "And how do you find your stay here in Imladris, Boromir of Gondor? Hopefully it is to your liking and may help to ease some of the cares on your mind."  
  
"If I was to say that it did... I would be lying to you. My mind worries on the borders between Gondor and cursed Mordor. Already do we hear the sounds of orc drums in our future and I pray...I pray to all that is sacred in hopes that this meeting is to discuss a new joining of Elves with Men." He said, his voice growing more sullen. "Else I fear that the blood of my people will fall to the ground in vain, yet Elrond leaves the nature of this meeting a secret while the threat of war grows in the West." He hinted, wondering if this elf knew anymore of what was to happen here.   
  
"Lord Elrond does nothing without good reason. He would not hold his tongue unless it was necessary. In due time all shall be revealed." She replied. "Do not despair. For strength still remains in the blood of Men and I greatly pray that strength will endure..for the good of all." She knew much, but she was not to reveal the thoughts and opinions of others without given consent. For they were not hers to reveal. "True, the world grows ever dark, but the shadow of the enemy can not snuff out every light if there are those that stand who will defend it. There is always hope."   
  
Androthiel turned towards him. "The threat of Mordor shall be answered, Son of Gondor. But by what means not even the wise may tell."   
  
"I have hope. We the people of Gondor have hope that the world will not abandon the White Tower now in its time of need. We will endure, but we cannot stand alone and still hope to be victorious, that is too much to ask of us." He said passionately, and finally he tilted his head back and gave a sigh. "And I have missed your name. Perhaps it was rude of me not to ask, but I would ask now. Who is the beauty to which I address?" Spoken like a gentleman with the voice and baring of a warrior, Boromir was to be the next Steward of Gondor, to hold the thrown if indeed Gondor still stood. There was a passion in his eyes, a fervor in which it was obvious that he considered himself and the safety of Gondor alike, that he would die for its name and honor.  
  
"I am called Androthiel." She told him. "And I do not believe you will be made to stand alone, but that is all you shall hear from my lips on the matter..for now." She said gently, her green eyes upon him once again. They seemed to shimmer, like a breeze disturbing a meadow of tall grass.  
  
Bowing his head in a gesture of reverence, Boromir backed away from Androthiel a few steps. "Perhaps we shall meet again at the Council. Your unspoken mysteries renew some faith in me." Said the warrior as he finally turned and strode out of the quiet hall, his footsteps echoing down its corridors.   
  
Nazgul walked the world again. The Nine had been washed away for the moment, but now more then ever was it apparent that darkness had returned to claim Middle-Earth yet again, but Shentar still had never returned to Androthiel as promised and time was no longer on their side.   
  
She watched Boromir exit before she continued on her way. Now paying little mind to the history around her. She glided down another hall and noticed the way the sun was beginning to lower in the sky, casting the valley in a spray of gold. water babbled somewhere in the distance and birds chittered and sang from the tops of trees. At the present she tried to lose herself in beauty of the land.   
  
-----  
  
The journey had been a long and arduous one, Aragorn and the hobbits had moved quickly over the land, at a much faster pace then the stubby legs of hobbits could normally endure, but love for their dear Mr. Frodo had spurred them on. It had been some time before he was able to cross the Ford after he had witnessed the white horses sweep away the dark in a crash of riverwater. He hadn't even had time to bath or change out of his traveling clothes as he opened the door to his room in the home of Elrond.   
  
Walking over to the window, Aragorn watched as the sun began its descent in the golden sky above this place, so ethereal in its beauty he could never tire of this sight. He didn't even hear her approach.  
  
He was a sight to behold, for it had been long since she last laid eyes upon him. She was dressed in glimmering white and the Evenstar shown from the base of her fair neck. Arwen placed a light hand upon his arm as she greeted him in Elvish. "My father spoke of your return, but I had to see it for myself." She said to him. Her voice was rich, deep, and beautiful. No doubt a comforting sound to tired ears. As he turned to regard her he was met with the large blue eyes of his love. Her smile was like a sweet whisper on her full lips.  
  
Ducking his head slightly, his dark tangled hair fell over his face, he was unwashed and well traveled but his eyes held only love for the woman caught in their gaze. Moving closer to her he looked to be about to embrace her before realizing that he was filthy. With a slightly coy smile he dropped his arms before speaking, his voice quiet as it always was. "Frodo...? How.." He was so very worried and though he knew the bearer of the ring had already shown great spirit, it may not have been enough.  
  
"Father is with him now...he is doing all that he can." She told him. She had no further news, it would have to be enough for the time being. She smiled and caressed his rough cheek. "He will prevail. Do not trouble yourself."  
  
His hand cupped hers, holding it to his face, his touch gentle as if he had been dreaming of the feel of her skin for weeks now, if not much longer. "I shall try. The journey here has been long..the road much longer." He said, playing his thumb over her hand before speaking again in Elvish. "I've missed you, though in my heart I know you have been with me all along. Giving me the strength I need. The hobbits had no such thing, I pray that this is the end of their journey..for Frodos' sake. I don't know of any man who...there is so much yet to do." He sounded so troubled still.  
  
Her gaze was full of love and understanding. "I am always with you." She said in Elvish. "..And I always will be." She promised, craning her neck just so, she leaned in and gently placed a soft kiss on his lips. They lingered for a moment before she pulled away. "Go, bath, and take some rest. I will wait for you and we may speak more later." She told him smiling once again, giving his hand a squeeze before she moved away from him. "There is much to tell, but first see to your needs."  
  
-----  
  
"A beautiful sunset. You've been here all afternoon, haven't you?" The old man in the grey robes said as he fell in beside Androthiel. He smiled before giving the elf a throaty chuckle. "Yes, I noticed you from the balcony just there." He said waiting a short pause. "Lord Elrond is finished with Frodo Baggins, rest and time are all he needs now to regain his strength."  
  
Androthiel looked somewhat relieved. "I am glad. When I found him I feared he was beyond our aid." She admitted. "How fair his companions?" She asked, her gaze returning to the setting sun, once again fixed on it. Gandalf was considered Elf-friend and very wise. She appreciated his company whenever she had it.  
  
"Hobbits, my dear friend, are perhaps made of sterner stuff then anyone had indeed imagined." He said, producing his long pipe, and lighting it up. A smoke ring wafted into the air shortly after. "Lord Elrond has called a secret council meeting for the morrow to discuss the Fate of Middle-Earth and the One Ring. I suppose since I let that information slip out you will have to be present as to not compromise its security." He said slyly before blowing another smoke ring. He knew well she was aware of the Council, but few had been asked to attend, even those as wise and strong as this elf maiden.  
  
Androthiel shared his smile. "I suppose you're right." She said, her voice tinged with musical laughter. "I am quite curious I must admit. I have seen many guests arrive these past days. I should like to be present for what is to come. Many show great concern, I am eager to hear Lord Elrond's thoughts on the matter. Perhaps he can quench those concerns." She said at length and then her fair brows raised as a new thought came to her. "Tell me Gandalf? How are you? Forgive me for I had forgotten to ask, my mind is sometimes overburdened with my restless thoughts."  
  
"As are we all so burdened in these dark times." He said, a warm smile again coming to his face as he turned to look upon her, clearing his throat before speaking again. "Hopeful, Androthiel..and curious as well to what tomarrow will bring. I fear though that I am now the last of my order involved on our side of this issue... Saruman the White has betrayed us and now fancies himself Saruman of many colors." He said with some spite, taking another shorter pause before continuing as his eyes held the sun once more. "The union of the Two Towers does not bode well for us. I will be...very interested to see what tomarrow brings indeed." He thought for a moment, leaving the air quiet in the growing dusk, there was nothing she could say. Words of hope were lost on ears so wise, Gandalf the Gray truly believed in victory through these dark times, though the path was looking harder and harder to walk as previously unseen obstacles came to light. Looking back to her again he spoke up. "But yes, we have prestigious visitors. Emissaries from the mountain halls, your friends, Aragorn and Legolas come as well as Boromir of Gondor."  
  
She nodded her head. "Boromir I did see. But I have yet to see Estel (for that was what many had called him who had seen him grow up in Rivendell) or Legolas." A tone of both amusement and annoyance colored her voice. "They evade me." She smiled.  
  
"Evade you?" His voice now held some amusement as well. "Why my dear would anyone possibly want to evade you?" He was playfully goading her now before extending his arm to her. "Come, it is about time that dinner be called in the hall and I'm simply famished." He said with that same, amused tone.  
  
_(Continue onto Chapter 2: The Pain in Parting. Please Read and Review)_


	3. Chapter 2: The Pain in Parting

_(I was on vacation for a awhile and when I wasn't on vacation I was fighting with some nasty writer's block so if this chapter contains typos or is a letdown just know that I'm aware and I'm working on it. Chapter 3 should be far more exciting and much less depressing. ;))_  
  
**Chapter 2: The Pain in Parting  
**  
A ringing of a great many bells summoned the folk of the house to the hall for a grand feast in honor of Frodo's recovery and the unusual gathering under Lord Elrond's roof. Dwarves, Men, and many elves filed into the hall talking amongst themselves as Androthiel was content to watch the others from her seat at Elrond's grand table.  
  
It was on these occasions that she found herself visiting the past, remembering what she had given up for the cause to free Middle Earth from darkness. Often, she had looked forward to these feasts. Her love, Laurenor, had been such a joy at these gatherings. They always reminded her of him and that he was no longer with her. He left this land long ago. She had so desperately wished to leave with him, but she knew she had a higher calling that came before her own happiness. And so here she sat silent and heavy with sorrow.  
  
Being so wrapped within her sorrow as she was. She did not notice his approach as she had the tall Gondorian earlier that day for the feet of elves had nimble soles and this elf was both a prince and a warrior approaching a fair lady, lost to all but the troubles of her own mind.  
  
"The wise tell me your friends are avoiding you lady."  
  
Androthiel raised her chin and turned upon the young prince with smiling eyes. For there stood Legolas with a soft, affection smile warming his handsome face.   
  
"Is this so?" He inquired.  
  
She nodded her golden head ever so slightly. "It is. I find it rather rude to be perfectly earnest."  
  
"Oh come! These friends would not abandon such a close bond. Possibly the man, but never the elf." He said easing down beside her. Although Legolas was of age there was still a quiet rebellion in the depths of his eyes. She could not forget the days of his youth. He had not lost that sparkle she so loved in all this time.  
  
"It does my heart good to see you Legolas." She told him smiling gently.  
  
"And I you." He said beaming.  
  
"And tell me where is this man that has slipped by me so unnoticed?" She wondered.  
  
"I could not tell you for he is as much a ghost to you as he is to me." Legolas replied with a gleam in his eyes. "Here is the better question. Where is Undomiel? Discover her whereabouts and I think you shall find your Ranger."  
  
Androthiels' smile dimmed just so. "Indeed."  
  
This did not escape notice. "And now I have disturbed you." He pointed out. "What troubles you so? Once upon a time you were not so sullen."  
  
"It matters little."  
  
"I would stand to disagree."  
  
"I am beginning to grow restless. That is all that it is Legolas. My heart reaches for the unattainable. It torments me." She admitted.  
  
"And why do you not sail then? More and more of our kind leave these shores all the time." Now he too sounded sad.  
  
"I have things yet to see done, dear prince. I am not free to leave as I choose for I gave my word long ago and it must not be broken."  
  
There was no opportunity to respond. The hall was filling quickly and the food would soon be served. Inquisitive minds would have to wait for another time.  
  
---  
  
A silent white face looked down upon Aragorn with care. Unmoving, she glimmered like ivory and pearl under the moonlight that found them in this sacred place. His callused fingertips picked away moss and gently brushed away leaf and overgrowth from the beautiful monument.  
  
"She was a lovely women."  
  
Aragorn's grey eyes never left the only face he could remember as his mothers. Yet he realized this statue had never held her true face. For she had passed when he had been so small. The only family he could ever recall were those he was now staying with. Elrond had raised him with the same love and care he had his own children, so many had been there for him as a child. Including the owner of the voice that now spoke to him. The only other he remembered as well as he did the Lord of Rivendell.  
  
She drew closer to his kneeling form, silent as passing starlight. Her hand fell light upon the crown of his dark head and with a fluid bow she drew down and planted a kiss there, her breath warm on his hair. Aragorn closed his eyes against the tender touch.  
  
"I do not remember her." He admitted in a soft voice laced with heartbreak. He felt her come down gracefully to rest beside him. She was as she always had been, unchanged by the passing years. The grace of Lady Androthiel never waned. If anything it was exalted by each passing season. He loved her as family and she did the same in return.  
  
The elf inhaled the gentle night air; a wistful smile on her face as her emerald eyes studied the statue. "But she remembers you Estel...Aragorn. She remembers you well."  
  
He could not help himself in bowing his head.  
  
"She is always watching over you. Never will she leave." She said fondly as she turned to him, noticing the slightest brush of silver at his temples. His face was well lined and weathered from much travel. His life would be a long one yet but it made her heart contract in a mixture of both pain and resignation. Numenor yes, but Aragorn was a mortal man. One day her hope would leave its weary home of flesh and bone. And on that day she would be powerless to stall that passing. She did not want to let this one go, but a voice explained that she would have him long enough and eventually the day would come when she must share him with places beyond physical grasp.  
  
Her fingertips guided his stubbled chin up and in her direction. She smiled when his eyes found hers. "Your eyes..."  
  
"What of them?" He wondered.  
  
"They do not change."  
  
"Should they?"   
  
She shook her head. "Not in you. No. There is a light in you Estel. I pray it shall not be extinguished before its time."  
  
She wrapped him in an embrace. He seemed hesitant for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around Androthiel as if he had only now fully remembered whom it was that now held him.  
  
"The lady must be aged indeed. I do not recall you being so soft at heart." He joked warmly as he rested his head against her shoulder.  
  
She laughed. "You leave for so long child and when you are away my heart misses you. I can only wonder at what happens to you, alone, walking in the shadows of the world like some haunting specter. And then when you return I can not find you until you wish to be revealed."  
  
"I did not wish to be revealed now." He admitted quietly.  
  
She pulled back gently from him, brushing maternal fingers across his well-creased brow. "Yes. Yes you did."  
  
He smiled. Something he rarely did anymore. It almost hurt to do so. Androthiel returned a smile and cradled his rough hand within hers. "Have you seen your Lady?" She asked.  
  
"We met. Only briefly after my arrival."  
  
"You should see her before you depart Aragorn." Androthiel advised.  
  
Aragorn shook his head slowly. "Her father bade me different."  
  
"I know what her father told you. That is naught excuse to leave her in the dark. I know her well. She made a choice and none may change her mind now. Not even you. If you leave without a goodbye it may crush her."  
  
"Why do you say these things to me?" He asked as if suddenly bothered to be speaking to her.  
  
"To place some sense into your mind child. Her father only wants for her to be safe and spared from harm. It is a wish any loving father would want, especially for his daughter. For what is a daughter but a product of her mother and he would not want to lose the love of his life twice in a lifetime. He would shield her from anything if it kept her free of any hurt. But safe in this sense is as treacherous as the danger he foresees."  
  
"Please.."  
  
"My lord is wise, but he does not know the heart of a woman, try as he might. If she sailed it would matter not how 'safe' she was. Arwen would die of grief. I know this. She is bound to you Aragorn. Do not pull away now."  
  
"I would wish that she left these shores as much as her father. I wish with all my heart for her to sail to the Undying Lands." He explained. "I do not pull away for the master of the house alone. I do so for my own heart. I could not have her forsake her people only to become mortal and widowed in the same breath."  
  
"If that is your wish then pray..listen to my words. I would not tell you so if it wasn't true. Give her but a moment and ease both her heart..and your own." Androthiel advised.  
  
Aragorn stared into the depths of her green eyes and finally bowed his head. Politely he took his leave of her without reply.  
  
---  
  
He'd watched her all through the Council; her head perched on her hands, there yet not there, much as she had been the night of the feast. Although once the Ring had been revealed she had snapped into attention, such a serious matter went far beyond anything personally wrong.  
  
So he watched her leave when the council dispersed, the fellowship had been chosen. Things were set and what would be, was, and what was set was set. The ring would go to Mount Doom, it had been a heavy decision to let it go in the hands of another...again, but Lord Elrond understood now as he understood then what would happen if he himself bore the ring. So he had to have faith in the resiliency of hobbits, there was no other way. The fate of Middle Earth was now sealed, for better or worse, and the ring was out of his hands. Now only Mordor lay in his mind, the consequences of the unfullfilled hunt would push the dark lord to move quicker, and the betrayal of Sarumon only reassured him that war was closer then either man or elf would like. But that was all in the future.   
  
He meant to speak to Androthiel now that she was alone for he was curious as to the weight she was placing on herself. That would now have to wait as there was another in his path that needed tending to.  
  
"Arwen."  
  
"Ada." She replied quietly.  
  
It was obvious she had been crying and it was even more obvious why she had been crying. Yet again she had to watch Aragorn leave her and this time there had been no intimate farewell, no goodbye kiss, and no way of knowing if she would ever see him alive again. Negativity had gotten the better of her this time around and she was just sick with the feeling.   
  
"Sell." Elrond said before drawing his arms around her shoulders in a loving embrace, it seemed that the problems of the world sometimes came second to being a father. After a moment he released her and took up her hand, leading her down the hall. They retired to her room before he attempted to carry on any sort of private conversation. "You had to know it would be like this..." He said, that stern voice that always had a way of coming out as he stood at the window. "He is Isildurs heir. The ring is in his blood. He is bound to it."  
  
Her eyes were downcast as he spoke. She knew he was right and that she could do nothing but let him go and see this journey through, but some small part of her had just hoped so badly for something. Something selfish inside of her that had wanted only a few more minutes with him before he had left. "I know, but I did not expect the hurt to be this much. All I wished for was a proper farewell but he has remained distant ever since your Council."  
  
Another tear fell.  
  
She was not naive. She knew why he had done it, but it still left her feeling bitter and sad.  
  
Her father was silent for a moment. He could not tell his daughter what he had told Aragorn. That he had told him to let her go that he could only cause her anguish if he did not. That if she would forsake her grace then she would surly die with him...  
  
"He is set on his way. There is no time now. To stray, even but a moment, would end in ruin. In his, in yours, in Arda itself. He uses all of his will, all of his mind is set on resisting the ring, resisting its pull."  
  
Turning towards her his expression was still solid, strong for his daughter who couldn't be right now. "The white ships are already leaving. More and more elves set sail every day..."  
  
And it came back to this again, his greatest fear realized and it wasn't the ring. It was the idea that his daughter would have to endure an even harsher existence then he had for something fleeting, for a human life that would last but a blink in time, she would throw her life away for only a few short years. He couldn't permit her to do this to herself. He knew the pain of loss and he did not wish it upon her.  
  
She closed her eyes, shutting him out as he tried once more to get her to leave. Her doubt instantly washed away by the old argument. "He will not stray. His strength is beyond anyone's grasp. I have no doubt of it. Because of that I would not leave with my people." She opened her eyes and looked back at her father. "He will come back to me and I will wait faithfully for that day."  
  
"Then you will condemn yourself to death. That is all that awaits you by remaining behind." He told her with a tone in his voice that suggested desperation.  
  
Arwen smiled sadly at him. "You do not understand."  
  
He gave her a questioningly look.  
  
"I would rather live but a few brief mortal years and have his love then outlast the world and never know it at all. Please understand. This is my wish."   
  
_(Continue onto Chapter 3: Of Elves & Dwarves. Please Read and Review)_


	4. Chapter 3: Of Elves & Dwarves

_(My apologies for the long wait on this chapter. College has kept me away, but hopefully the wait is worth it. :D Currently in the story we have skipped ahead a little bit, from the time where the Fellowship has left our friends in Rivendell to where we meet them again in the safety of Lothlorien. I had a mind to write out all that came in between, but we all know what happens and I had no use for replacing it in my story. So enjoy Chapter 3.)_  
  
**Chapter 3: Of Elves & Dwarves**  
  
The Lorien elves had spread a pavilion among the trees that night for the remaining members of the Fellowship and Legolas had returned to the company only a short while ago to rest after spending some quality time with his kindred. Now he was somewhat loathe in his decision to do so. For what had begun as a friendly game between an elf and a dwarf was quickly growing sour. The dwarf was winning to his own delight and he seemed even more thrilled by his companions frowning face as the Prince of Mirkwood sat puzzling over the game board between them. He rested his chin lightly on his fist, his dark brows knitting together as he concentrated. He had thought he understood the rules to this game of Gimli's, but somehow he kept losing. Now how could that possibly be?   
  
He let out a small sigh of frustration as he moved one of his game pieces across the board. Once he was satisfied with the move he leaned back and waited for Gimli to make his move.  
  
"It's a good move." Gimli grumbled as he scratched his bearded chin. Squinting an eye a little he finally smiled and raised the index finger of one of his gloved hands. "The Dethek rune game is a game of lines. I... first learned it as a small child, my father taught me." Gimli said, stalling as his other hand moved to a small block with a dwarven glyph for the number 8 drawn on it. "When I was six." He said as he slid the block into place. It was another win for the dwarf. "Well, Master Elf! Another one for me!" He cheerily announced.  
  
Legolas was clearly irritated although he was trying desperately to hide it with a look of indifference. He was sure Gimli wasn't playing fair, as his latest victory seemed to suggest. He was new to this game of course, but he was very careful to pay close attention and remember small details for he did not yet completely trust the dwarf and Gimli's behavior alone told him something wasn't right. Legolas frowned again at the game board. "Tell me Gimli, how did you win just now?" He asked his voice soft and a little too even.   
  
"Well, it's a simple matter of placing. There are numerous strategies..." He said, looking up at the elf, his voice a little flustered as he knew what his opponent was getting at. "It's a dwarven game... No elf could ever beat a dwarf at it, the thinking... constructive, lines and hard patterns... that sort of thing. Surly you understand master elf, come now, another game?" The dwarf said, his hand landing on Legolas's arm. He was enjoying this far too much.  
  
"Maybe you'll have better luck this time through!"  
  
The elven archer's frown deepened. "I believe that I could be part in this game all night and well into the morning and it would not matter what I did or how careful I was. I believe you would keep winning and I think it is because you are cheating me." He excused shrugging off the dwarf's hand. "It would be a great story to take home with you. 'Listen! Listen as I tell you all how I outwitted the elf!'" He said grumpily, his placid mood falling like so much rainwater.   
  
"Cheating! Me! I don't have to cheat at Dethek! It's a children's game and it's not that hard, you've only got to think like a dwarf. Put yourself into the mind frame of it." He said, stretching both of his short arms out to Legolas, his hands only a foot away from the elf's head as he expressed himself. "Think about red meat, or better yet, boar. Roasted boar and ale, dwarven brewed. Imagine liking it, imagine the forge, where you make dwarven weapons. Not these curved, thin elf blades. Ha!" He shook his head at the elf's weaponry propped against the ever-reaching roots of a mallorn tree. The elf arched a brow in silent response. Gimli continued. "But a nice strong axe. Lines. Straight, strong, unbreaking lines lacing over one another. There are the patterns. Do you see? There is the trick." He said, emphasizing his words by clapping his hands together in front of the elf's face.   
  
It was far too silent when the chip hit the table, bouncing only twice before landing with a soft clatter. It was an 8, fallen right out of the dwarf's sleeve.  
  
"Well..." He said, suddenly going straight. "That too..."  
  
The elf's eyes landed on the fallen piece. Oh! If looks could kill! There would be a dead dwarf before him now. Legolas's eyes blazed with an icy color. "I was right! You are a cheat! A plague upon Dwarves and their stiff necks! So full of themselves they must cheat so they won't have to witness an elf outwit them at their own game! If we weren't guests of the Lady I would show you what we do to cheaters!" He said passionately. He knew there was no way he could've lost the game that many times.  
  
"Cheat! I do not cheat at Dethek!" Gimli shouted back. "That's inventive winning elf! And I still outsmarted you!" The dwarf shot back angrily at the far too true accusations. "For your information, it only made the games quicker, you'd of still lost!"  
  
Outwitted? By a dwarf? Legolas eyes grew dark now. "Inventive winning indeed!" He spat as he crossed his long arms over his chest. "If you were really so superior you would've played a fair game. You wouldn't need help to beat me, an elf, at a child's game!" He picked up the fallen piece and tossed it carelessly at the dwarf. Legolas rose from his seat tall and proud and began to walk away. He had enough of this dwarf and his inventive ways of getting around things.   
  
The dwarf grumbled and sputtered in protest as his opponent stalked off. "I was only trying to spare you…you pointy eared--AHHH!" He growled not knowing how to finish his statement as he stewed in his emotions.  
  
---  
  
The elven member of the Fellowship stormed away with all the arrogant flourish of a young princling. A hearty chuckle broke his silent anger as he passed another of the long reaching roots of the ancient mallorn trees. He spied a dark shape, enfolded by the thick sturdy roots and he knew instantly it was Aragorn. Not from his look but by the rich sound of his laughter. For it was rare indeed when the lonely ranger found a reason to give mirth a voice.  
  
"Aragorn my temper is already hot. Pray, tell me you do not laugh at my expense?" The slender elven archer inquired as he stopped and took a few light steps towards his human friend.  
  
Aragorn only laughed again and this time harder. His gray eyes were glittering in amusement. "Come Legolas! Do you not see how childish you are being?"  
  
"Childish!" Legolas blinked, his mouth was an angry, thin line. "Childish? I'm being called childish by a child! Oh what friends I have!" He exclaimed dramatically.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "He was only trying to befriend you, share something of his own culture with you."  
  
"You can not 'befriend' an elf through lies and deceit." Legolas hissed, folding his strong arms.  
  
"He only cheated to impress you. He thought if he taught you his game and showed you how clever he was that you would be impressed. Instead you are hot tempered and your pride is bruised." Aragorn pointed out.  
  
The elf still frowned. "Well... if you speak truthfully then perhaps I overreacted, but it was still a foul way to try and impress another."  
  
The ranger smiled thoughtfully as Legolas seated himself quietly nearby. "It might do you well to be the one to go and apologize."  
  
"It might do you well to wipe that smile from your face Estel!" He responded with a tiny smirk on his fair face.  
  
Aragorn continued laughing.  
  
---  
  
Not far from where the elf and the man sat hidden, did the hobbits mingle, partaking in the rich nourishment the Lorien elves had provided for them. Frodo was far too quiet for Sam's liking, but every now and again he tried to smile for the benefit of his friends. Occasionally he picked at a piece of fruit, or a bit of fine bread.  
  
"You know Pip, if I had me a nice hobbit hole I might stay right here for a long while. These elves know how to eat." Merry said through a full mouth.  
  
Pippin's cheeks were as full as a rodents. "Yeah but they don't have any mushrooms. I don't think I could live without a good mushroom every now and again."  
  
Merry chewed thoughtfully. "Too right." He said.  
  
Sam took a nice sip of the elvish wine they were given and kept his soft eyes on Frodo. Frodo was staring off into the distance, listening to the gentle melodic voices of elves singing from the tops of trees. He looked terrible sad, he did.  
  
"Frodo?" Sam asked.  
  
Frodo didn't look at him. "Yes Sam?"  
  
"Are you okay? You've barely touched your dinner." He said looking at the other hobbits plate.  
  
"I'm fine Sam." Frodo answered.  
  
"Beggin' your pardon, but it doesn't much look that way from where I'm sittin'." Sam replied. Frodo turned to regard him. "Is it because of Moria? Is that why you're so quiet?"  
  
Frodo glanced slowly down at the mounds of food infront of them. "Yes.. and no." He said. "I guess I've just lost my appetite."  
  
"Well if Gandalf were here he'd be tellin' you to eat up. Just because some bad has happened doesn't mean you should be deprivin' yourself of one of the few good meals we've had. You need to keep up your strength." Sam said.   
  
Frodo made the effort to smile and take a big bite out of his dinner for Sam.  
  
"There you go Sir." Sam said smiling.  
  
---  
  
The night passed slowly and somewhat peacefully after that. But when dawn first peaked Boromir had been the first to rouse his sleep still somewhat plagued since having walked in the realm of the Lord and Lady. He could still feel her penetrating eyes upon him even when he knew he shouldn't have. His minds eye filled with pale blue, sprinkled with the twinkling light of the stars. He had all but thought his visions were becoming reality when he saw a glimmer among the large trunks of the surrounding trees. In the distance it looked like a tiny shimmering star, speeding forth, in and out of view. What could this be? He wondered.  
  
The smooth, strong sound of a horn rang true through the glimmering forest, as the shimmer seemed to grow larger. What was coming for them?  
  
As he sat there debating this a pair of thin legs went racing by him, silent as snowfall. Legolas went bounding forth through the mossy grass, leaping gracefully over each root in his path, next came the audible footfalls of the Ranger, following the elf, neither were yet dressed for the day, yet they were taking off as if they had seen heaven come down to earth.  
  
Boromir rose slowly, watching curiously as a few fair haired elves appeared from the folds of trees and the glimmering light shined brighter with the soft plodding of hooves. In the distance the light seemed to fade as a snow white horse paused and allowed its rider to dismount and then he understood the shining light he had seen was that of an elf. His mouth parted in surprised when he realized he remembered this elf maiden.   
  
Her long flaxen hair was now braided back off her fair face and trailed down her back like a river of gold. He noticed she did not wear beautiful royal robes, but traveling clothes, not much different from that of the archer, but for the silver and violet color of the garments. He noticed her face looked stricken and she seemed to be injured. Lady Androthiel had ridden to Lothlorien, but from where and why for?  
  
---  
  
Fear gripped the heart of Aragorn as he raced after Legolas, his feet pounding their way to Androthiel and her mount. Something grave must've happened for her to have ridden all this way alone. Her mount stamped its feet anxiously, stepping this way and that as she dropped to her feet. It looked shaken even under the protection of the Galadriheim, as did the Lady. It was only now as he neared her that he saw the sheen of sweat and the dirt staining her face and clothing. She swayed on her nimble feet, her fingers entangled in her mounts snowy mane for some support.  
  
"Androthiel!" Legolas cried. "What is this madness? You are hurt." He spat out in a string of elvish. "Pray, tell me who has harmed you?"  
  
The lady raised wary jade eyes to the young elf as she tried to gain her barings back.   
  
"Away... Away young Prince. Away with you..." She replied in their own tongue.  
  
"Lady do not be foolish." Aragorn said in the elf's tongue, his voice soothing but it carried easily to her fine ears. As her friends closed around her she leapt back, ignoring the dizziness it caused.  
  
"DO NOT TOUCH ME!" She cried. "You can not. You can not..." She shook her head, her hand closed over her heart where there was a red stain and a black ickor that seeped out between her long pale fingers.  
  
The eyes of Legolas were filled with a great pain when he saw this and against the whim of his heart he took a step back, his hand falling on the Ranger's shoulder. "Aragorn." He whispered. Aragorn stood frozen, for the first time not knowing what this vile deed was.  
  
To their surprise their guide Haldir and his two brothers were the first to come for Androthiel. Rumil and Orophin took the frightened beast's lead as Androthiel swayed and fell, the arms of Haldir catching her before she hit the ground. Aragorn noticed he wore a long pair of gloves. What had afflicted the Lady so that none would touch her with their bare hands? Why had she ridden into the woods as if a Balrog were chasing her? Had some evil penetrated Rivendell?  
  
---  
  
There was no word on the Lady until the next day when a healer came, bowing his head to the company. "I bring thee word from our Lady Galadriel. We have tended ceaslessly to your fair Androthiel and she is still much ailled and sleeps fitfully. But we feel the worst has now passed. She is no longer a danger-"  
  
"A Danger?" Aragorn asked.  
  
The elf nodded. "A rare poison, not oft seen. There are few who could have made such a vile thing, but we have done all we can. If it was not caught quickly enough she could have brought death upon you by a touch. Her mount did not last the night... but we are out of that danger now. You may see her if you wish." He explained to them plainly.  
  
Aragorn was the first to rise in order to follow the healer to where the Lady rested. With a sudden haste Legolas stopped him with a deep look of concern on his face. "Aragorn... be careful. Her light was fading. I have heard of few who can survive such illness. Those that do... are much altered."  
  
---  
  
It was strange that Boromir had seemed most eager to visit the Lady and that Legolas was easily the most apprehensive. Never the less the men and the elf came upon Androthiel's resting-place with ill ease. Gimli remained behind to keep the hobbits company, being not so close to the elf maiden, he thought it best to wait until she was better healed to visit. Although he did want to, as did the hobbits, if for no better reason than to pay her respect.  
  
They had hung a veil around the bed she laid in and although she was sick that seemed quite strange to Aragorn. The closer he got to her side the less he liked this. The trio was silent as could be for she seemed to be sleeping still and they did not wish to wake her.   
  
"She looks like death." Whispered Boromir gravely, a strange emotion coloring his voice. "I remember her at Council and in the grand hall and this.. It can not be."  
  
"It can... and it is. This is the ill Mordor spawn visits upon the elves if they do not do worse." Legolas explained in his soft voice. "I have seen it before, but never in any that have lived. It is a vile act to have done this to one so counted as she. Something I would not see go unpunished." He said passionately.  
  
Aragorn did not speak, merely teased the veil back from surrounding her and with sorrow he had to agree with the opinion of his fellow man because she did look like death. Her skin was not like the pale porcelain it would've been under normal circumstances. It was almost gray, the hollows of her cheeks and the pale around her eyes and lips almost seemed bruised and her green eyes stared open, vacant, as often is the way of elves in slumber. But he remembered the way she slept from long years past. Her eyes were always moist and warm and full of life. As a child he had believed she held magic within them, but now they were dull, muted, and glazed over. If he hadn't known better he would've claimed her dead.  
  
Taking her hand he almost recoiled at the touch of her skin. It was ice cold! Legolas's warm hand fell on the Ranger's shoulder and he looked up at the Mirkwood Prince in horror.  
  
"She is so cold." He whispered.  
  
Legolas said not. He only furrowed his brow as his eyes filled with tears. In a soft voice he whispered something in his own tongue. Some sort of prayer.  
  
Boromir looked between them and then down at the she-elf. "Surely it is only the sickness. It has been but a day and if it is truly as bad as it sounds even the strength of elves might wane to this darkness. She will be well Aragorn. You shall see. She just needs time." He said reassuringly.  
  
Just then their collective attention was brought down to the elf maiden. A barely audible whisper escaped her blue lips then for a breathless moment nothing happened. Finally the elf swallowed lethargically and Aragorn felt her fingers weakly tighten around his.  
  
"My Lady." He said gently as her eyes sought to focus themselves. She blinked and frowned but finally his face came into view. Her eyes grew wet and she reached for him.  
  
"Estel." She whispered hoarsely.  
  
"Shall I fetch the healer?" He asked gently, rubbing her hand between his, trying desperately to warm it.  
  
She simply shook her head negatively before she seemed to really look passed him. "Look here... Gondor's son has paid me a visit." She said weakly, but smiled at Boromir.  
  
Boromir smiled back. "The very least I could do I'm afraid."  
  
"Well I have no use of your fear... so do not fear at all."  
  
Legolas tried to smile but found he could not as she spoke so kindly to the man. She found his face next and her smile grew.  
  
"And our sweet prince too... Ah.. I am much blessed to be in the company of you three. I thought my last memory would be a void but here I am corrected. Praise be to the Vala." She said taking a deep breath. "Still I feel much pain at this for though I live… I am denied."  
  
"What are you denied my Lady?" Aragorn asked carefully.  
  
"A ship." She whispered. "A ship to bear me home. None are left that can… for that gift is taken from me." A tear slipped down her cheek.   
  
_(Continue onto Chapter 4: The Mortal Coil. Please Read and Review)_


	5. Chapter 4: The Mortal Coil

_(I feel as though I strayed with the last chapter a little in terms of the quality of the writing. Distractions have the ability to do that to a person so let's see if I can't recapture a little bit of that old magic :D Still a bit sad, but we're steadily moving along and we'll be getting to more of the good stuff shortly. I promise certain characters will stop the pouting by next chapter. Just stick with me.;) Thanks so much to the sweet individuals who continue to read and review. I love it so much. :D Disclaimer: Oh and once the characters, lands, songs, cultures, etc.. that were created by the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien are obviously not mine. I am writing this as a fan for entertainment purposes only and am not profitting from this story.)_  
  
**Chapter 4: The Mortal Coil  
**  
"I do not understand, that was not the path. I thought I had not strayed but it seems… I have. And now where is my Istar? Has he succumbed as well? Or mayhaps it was all a devilish trick and I was fool enough to be blinded. Tell me where is Mithrandir? I need very much to see him... where is he now? He could tell me why this has come to pass. He said he was the last, but he should not have been the last. He should not be." She forced herself up in bed and Aragorn looked rather shaken and upset by her words.  
  
"My Lady lay still." He gently demanded.  
  
"I shall do no such thing. Answer me now Estel. Where is Mithrandir? Why is he not here now?" She asked fearfully.  
  
"My Lady..." Aragorn lost his voice quite suddenly.  
  
Legolas could barely look at her. The utter fear and disquiet in her eyes was such a painful thing to look upon.  
  
Boromir took it upon himself to gently break the news to her seeing as the others could not. "Lady Androthiel. He fell... in Moria."  
  
"What?" She asked horrified. She was not hearing this. It could not be!  
  
"There were many creatures there that tried to overtake us, but none so terrible as the Balrog." Boromir explained.  
  
Legolas clenched his fist angrily remembering how he had dropped his arrow. He had been so frightened. If he had just held on, if he had done something then maybe Gandalf would still be with them.   
  
Androthiel's eyes were wide with tears. "No.." She shook her head slowly, some color having now returned to her face as she had brewed fresh those bitter tears and began to move about.  
  
Aragorn gently touched her shoulders and this time it was he who took her into his arms for it seemed somehow, queer, as the thought may be, that their roles had reversed. As she had done many times over the years it was now his turn to care for her. She fell heavily against him, her slowly warming flesh pressed against his weathered tunic as she loosed her frustration and feelings of despair in the curve of his neck. And he noticed now, as if for the first time since they had arrived that there was a sudden sharp contrast in the color of her long hair. Where a wave of it normally framed her face in gold there was a long stark white streak that no longer shined. As if it were a sign that she had lost something precious.  
  
He noted over her hunched form that Boromir was looking off towards the entryway in confusion. Craning his neck slightly he saw that the son of Thranduil was storming away from them down several platforms and many vaulting steps. And now he understood what Androthiel had meant when she voiced the sorrow of a denial. It was a reason for the chill in her skin and the change of her eyes… the color of her hair.  
  
His fingers played over the white hair as he gently stroked her back in a hope to soothe her grief. He looked up to Boromir who could do naught but nod and quietly leave them. Once they were alone he chose to speak.  
  
"Gandalf did what he was meant to do. He fought seeming without fear. He faced the Balrog when no other could…" Aragorn's voice wavered a little as he spoke. " He showed the creature his great will and it seemed as though it had been defeated once it had fallen from the bridge of Khazad-dûm, but it was not to be. It took him into the black chasm and that was the last we saw of our Grey Pilgrim." He explained feeling the shuddering of her shoulders and the wet kiss of her tears, newly fallen, blessing the simple garments he wore.  
  
"The loss was a great toll on us all, but we must not let it defeat us. Not you… nor I…" He said with such ease and passion that it hid any doubt he still may have carried with him along the great journey. "He did what he must to ensure that we could keep moving so that we might live to fight another day. He sacrificed himself in the hope that Middle-Earth would outlast the shadows and find peace again. I can speak for none but myself, but I will tell you now that I will fight, until my final breath should that be my fate. I will keep fighting for him and everything good left in this world."  
  
He felt her movements slowly winding down, her grief passing sluggishly. By the time he had finished speaking she had raised her head enough to meet his gaze. She looked so weary, but not as sad.  
  
"And so shall we all." Androthiel said with a small voice that uplifted and broke his heart all at once. His smile was just as small and fragile.  
  
"Yes…" Aragorn replied. "Now sleep."  
  
"I do not think I can sleep anymore." She said.  
  
"Please. You are safe here and under the protection and care of many." He said gently easing her back into the petal soft pillows. "Your friends are near if needed. Try to take comfort and find rest. The questions can wait for now."  
  
- -  
  
Though she was still feeling weak, Androthiel's fair face was lit with the most gleeful smile as Merry and Pippin, being the light hearted scamps they were, sang her a song. Dancing and marching and making a grand show. Every smile and laugh earned from her just spurred them on in search of more and in that way they were like small children, competing for the praise and affections of a loving parent. It was a wonderful thing to watch.  
  
_"Tree and flower and leaf and grass,   
  
Let them pass!"_ Cheered Merry with a pump of his small fist.  
  
_"Let them pass!"_ Pippin echoed with a grin.  
  
_"Hill and water under sky,   
  
Pass them by!"_ Pippin sang with a hearty smile, his chin held high as he and Merry weaved back and forth around each other, singing and marching.  
  
_"Pass them by!"_ Merry echoed this time.  
  
_"Still round the corner there may wait   
  
A new road or a secret gate,   
  
And though we pass them by today,   
  
Tomorrow we may come this way   
  
And take the hidden paths that run   
  
Towards the Moon or to the Sun."_   
  
They sang together looking from one another and then often back to Androthiel who kept a soft beat by clapping her thin hands and grinned sweetly at them.  
  
_"Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,   
  
Let them go!"_ Pippin sang dancing a merry little jig, his feet slapping the soft earth as Merry joined him, falling into synched with his friend's footwork.  
  
_"Let them go!"_ The hobbit cheered.  
  
_"Sand and stone and pool and ell,   
  
Fare you well! Fare you well!"_  
  
Gimli sat making his own laughter, a deep hearty chuckle from the pit of his belly. The wee ones were quite entertaining he must admit.   
  
"A fine song!" He praised as Merry postured and took a dramatic bow for the audience.  
  
Pippin grinned and looked eagerly at Androthiel. "Did you like the song Lady elf?"  
  
"Yes of course!" Androthiel said with a smile. "It was wonderful and no doubt one of Bilbo's, he always was so very good with songs."  
  
Merry nodded. "Yeah ol' Bilbo made that one 'imself. We sang it when we first set out for Buckland."  
  
"Well I'm quite certain he would be very proud to hear you singing it so well." The elf praised.  
  
"Awww.. t'weren't that good." Merry said shuffling his feet.  
  
Pippin blinked. "Yes it was."  
  
"Pippin!"  
  
"It was! I thought it was. Not as good as elf song of course but that's different."  
  
The elf only smiled sweetly and folded her hands in her lap, quite content in her soft grassy seat, hugged by mighty tree roots. As she listened to the two hobbits debate another small figure came walking by, the likes of dear Samwise Gamgee, carefully carrying two plates in his hands. He stopped by the Lady and gave her a coy look.  
  
"Beggin' yer pardon my Lady, but Strider thought it'd be right nice if you had yerself somethin' to eat. I was gonna bring Mr. Frodo a bit of food too so I offered to bring you yours." He said softly, offering her a plate.  
  
"Oh... Thank You Sam. How Lovely." She said reaching for the plate. As she did a tremor passed through her hand causing it to shake visibly and she frowned softly. The hobbit saw this too and he looked mighty sad, but Sam being the kind soul he was, didn't say anything about it.  
  
"I'll set it right here for you to have when you may. Should you be needin' anything else just let me know and I'd be happy to get it for you." Sam said with his gentle smile.  
  
"Thank You Sam. You have a kind heart."  
  
Sam just smiled and moved on with a little nod of his head.  
  
Androthiel watched the hobbit walk away, wrapping the soft folds of her cloak more tightly around herself, feeling quite cold and a little insecure.   
  
--  
  
In another part of the wood Legolas stood alone, or so he thought, staring up at the thick canopy of the trees, seeking the light of the stars above them. He kept straight and tall and as still as a statue, with his arms carefully folded before him.  
  
'You seek answers to questions which you already have.' A voice whispered in his mind.  
  
Legolas looked about, his brows drawing together in slight confusion. There stood the Lady of the Golden Wood, robed in white, gleaming like silver under the moonlight. Her wise eyes followed him as she entered the glade where he stood. He could feel it, where her eyes did not simply look, but reach deep, probing the things within his very heart and soul. He looked back, into her star filled eyes, unafraid of the intrusion as some might be.  
  
'Why do you despair son of Thranduil?' Her voice asked in the deep tones of her voice, a sound like rich honey. It was so clear in his head and her lips never moved. 'You are but a child to me, but you are not so very young… and yet here you are… fearful of the things that can not be undone.'  
  
Legolas face was placid now, though his eyes were deep wells of emotion. "It is hard not to despair when things happen that are so very wrong." He said softly.  
  
Galadriel's eyes brightened. 'Wrong for whom? Wrong for your kin or wrong for you? Painful are many things that come to pass, but they are no more right than wrong when it is the path one must take.'  
  
"She should not have to endure this curse! She was given no choice! It was brought upon her by the will of evil. How is that not wrong? I do not want her to… I cannot watch her die… she was not meant to…"   
  
'But you do not know this for certain. It feels unfair because your heart is deep and cares greatly for your friends, it leaves you feeling betrayed. But that is the way and you must accept what fate has dealt. Sometimes those that deserve life can not keep it young Prince, you know this.' Galadriel's starry eyes narrowed at him; still she did not speak allowed. Only to his mind. 'The Lady has her part to play in this quest, as do you, and your concern now should be if you shall continue onward and aid Frodo on his journey… or? Do you turn back? Back whence you came… to family and all life and love under the darkened bows of your home? None would fault you for leaving the Company…' She said, filling his head with the idea, drudging up his happiest memories to the forefront of his mind, tempting him…  
  
His heart did ache at the memory of home and family, but he could think naught of what he left behind. Legolas had pledged to serve the Hobbit on this perilous mission and he was not one to go back on his word. To turn back now would be a fool's notion!  
  
"I will not go back." He said with determination. "I will see this through… to its end… or my own."  
  
A warm, cunning smile stretched the wise she-elf's lips upon hearing this.   
  
He passed the test.  
  
--  
  
"I had ridden forth with a company from Imaldris at my Lord Elrond's request. He bade us go and bring word to the Lord and Lady." Androthiel explained gently to those members of the company gathered about her, still feasting and curious of her journey to LothLorien.  
  
Many hooves pounded over the wildlands of Middle-Earth. The elves moving with all due speed and haste in hopes of reaching the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien as soon as possible. Her Lord was in desperate need of their guidance, all hope depended upon her getting his letter delivered in a timely manner. Androthiel led the group with a grave look about her face. She moved with such speed the winds had caught up her lovely cloak, causing the garment to float behind her like gossamer wings.   
  
"What word did he bade you bring?" Boromir wondered softly.  
  
Androthiel floated down the halls of Elrond's beautiful home, the leaves continued to fall around her with the season's changing. She noticed a great distance away that her Lord was walking with his child. His arm linked with that of Arwen's, her pale hand held in his own, cupped by the other as they spoke and moved together. Bless her! For she was making her father laugh!  
  
Androthiel smiled warmly at the sight for it had been a long while since she had seen him even crack the tiniest smile. But his smile would not last nor would any other as Arwen's eyes fluttered suddenly and she fell into her father's arms. The Lord of Rivendell stood for one horror-filled moment before he fell to his knees, cradling his ailing child in his arms.   
  
Androthiel's emerald orbs shifted to the quiet form of Aragorn as he sat a distance away, his back to them as he puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. Then her loving gaze was back on Boromir, Gimli, and the Hobbits.  
  
"I fear I am not able to discuss that information with you. It is of a private matter." She apologized, bowing her head.  
  
"Oh think naught of it." Gimli said with a wave of his hand. "Continue! Continue! When and where did you meet with peril?" He asked.  
  
"Not far from the borders of the Golden Wood." Androthiel explained, her brow furrowing with the memory. "We had seen little sign of peril 'til then when we came upon one of our own…" Tears welled in her eyes. "A young scout, he had been slain on the way ahead and the orcs had been sure to leave him on display. They had butchered his mount… or rather… had it not been them, but the Wargs perhaps." She remembered only the deep red that had covered the ground, beyond that she had blocked much of it out.  
  
"Wargs!" Pippin cried in alarm.  
  
"Yes. Our steeds had grown alarmed, not at the sight they beheld, but the foul stench on the air. And then we heard the first beastly howl and we knew we had to flee, the answering calls were far too many, far too close. Seeing as I had been the one carrying the marked case, containing my Lord's news I rode on ahead with two others, while the remaining company followed in hopes of warding off the enemy until we had reached the safety and protection of the Lady."  
  
Bows sang and metal clashed as the chittering cries of orcs and the howls of the wolves rose with the battle cries of her brethren. The she-elf's hands snapped the reins of her mount, urging him to speed her away as fast as possible.   
  
"Needless to say I saw many of my kith and kin fall. I did slay as many of the murdering fiends as I could before the arrow hit and then… a terrible fire burned in my veins." She described, clutching her chest.   
  
The loud 'shank' of the black arrow resonated as it buried itself deep, sheathing itself in the elf's body. She gave a startled cry, but did not falter as she raced ahead of the beastly creatures. Many large paws slapped the ground, chasing the pounding hooves of the white horse and its rider. They were snapping at it's heels as the outermost borders of Lorien appeared in the distance.  
  
"Noro lim!! Noro lim!" She cried as she wrapped the animals' reins around a link on its saddle. Balancing carefully at this speed, Androthiel gripped the shaft of crude wood in both hands and sucked in a deep breath of air as she pulled it out. She let out a cry of great pain as she freed herself of it and studied the arrowhead as she was gasping now at the pain.  
  
"They've tipped it." She realized to her horror. With an angry snarl, she took the black arrow and pulled her own bow, turning in the saddle, cloak and hair flying with the wind; she fired the arrow into the wolf coming nearest to her. Her aim was true, slamming into the thing's heart. It issued a shriek and tumbled to the ground, crushing its rider. The animals shrieked and howled as she pulled free another arrow from her quiver and fired and fired and fired again. She sent her arrows to the animals until there were none left to send.   
  
"So hot did it burn I felt my blood turn to ice within me and I thought surely I would not make it, but I had to try. I don't remember much after… the distant sound of horns blowing… the squeals of my mount and then darkness it seemed had overtaken me completely."  
  
"We were all afraid for you." Merry said softly, biting at his lip, remembering as he had watched at a distance as the elf maiden had dismounted and how pale she had seemed.  
  
"And I thank you deeply for that concern." Androthiel replied with a gentle tilt of her head.  
  
--  
  
This was the scene Legolas came upon, the vision of his dear friend and elder, seated barefoot on the grass, clothed in a shimmering silver garment of Lorien. Her long golden hair lay loose about her thin shoulders, the lackluster streak of white had been consciously tucked back behind the fine point of her ear.  
  
All around her sat his company. The four hobbits sat nearest to her right. Frodo, the closest, though he seemed distant of the conversation. On her left sat Boromir, engrossed and sympathetic to the maiden and across from her was the mighty dwarf, still enjoying his supper meal. A short distance away, farther from the gathered company, but closest to the archer, was Aragorn. He faced away from them all though his eyes were deftly locked on Legolas as he took the pipe from his mouth.  
  
Legolas moved as if a passing shadow, over to his friend and sat a moment with him.  
  
"She spoke to you."   
  
Legolas nodded. "Ai, she did."  
  
Aragorn nodded.  
  
"And why do you not join the others?" Legolas wondered.  
  
The slightest rise lifted the Ranger's brows to his question. "Am I not?" He countered.  
  
"Not from where I am seated. No you are not." Legolas said with a soft scowl, that drew his brows together.  
  
"Would it please you if I moved then?" Aragorn asked, a ghost of amusement in his tone. Still somewhat somber from the loss of Gandalf and the obvious worry for Androthiel.  
  
"It may." Legolas said with a whisper of a grin as his lively blue eyes traveled back to their company.   
  
Aragorn rose with the silence and grace of an elf and led the way back to the company. Legolas followed close after.   
  
--  
  
Androthiel's eyes caught those of both Aragorn and Legolas as they rejoined the company. Aragorn nodded solemnly in return. Legolas wore a mask that was quite shaken; though he tried to smile for her all the same.   
  
"Ah!! The Elf and Ranger finally return!! Well it's about time!! You missed most of the Lady's story." Gimli grumbled at them.  
  
"They missed all of it Master Dwarf. There is nothing left to tell…" Androthiel replied gently, gifting him with her warmest of smiles.  
  
"Oh." The dwarf blinked. "Well see? You missed everything because of your sulking!"  
  
The Hobbits looked back and fourth between the others, save Frodo. Who was still picking at his dinner plate. Androthiel said no more and did the same, picking a juicy slice of fruit to eat, silently thanking Yavanna for the morsel before it touched her pale lips.  
  
"I'm sure we are all well aware, Dwarf… Of what happened. There is no need to rehash it and upset the Lady any longer." Legolas replied, quite curtly. This issued the attention of all; Aragorn shot him a dark look.  
  
"I only meant…" Gimli began, abashed, only to be cut off.  
  
"We all know well what you meant! Say no more of it! I wish not to hear it!" The elf snapped, almost viscously.  
  
Frodo looked up at the smarting tone his voice took on.  
  
"Legolas…" Androthiel began sternly, as a parent would, talking to a haughty child.  
  
"I am free to speak as I would, am I not?" He responded.  
  
"Of course… But what has Gimli done to you that you would be so quick to lash out in this manner? He offends none. Honestly, he has been a joy to me and has served to lift all of our spirits tonight. Would you so readily return to us and trample our mirth with your foul behavior? That is not the way a child of Thranduil would conduct himself…"  
  
Legolas's eyes darkened, literally at her reprimand. "My foul behavior? Look at yourselves? You laugh in the wake of Mithrandir's death!! Call me foul? I think not!"  
  
"Bite your tongue!" Androthiel snapped in the elven tongue. Her voice was rough over the flowing language. It startled the Hobbits. Frodo's small hand went to his heart as his eyes shifted uneasily between them.  
  
"I will not!" Legolas replied in elvish. "I have already tried and it pains me. I am weary of watching my friends fall and none caring!"  
  
"You are blind if you think none care. You surely must be, had it not occurred to you that we may laugh only to keep from letting the grief swallow us whole?" She questioned. "Am I not also your friend? Are not the Hobbits? The Dwarf? The Men?"  
  
"Yes, but.."  
  
"No Legolas. Cease this childish behavior now. I know you are above it. This peace will not last. Enjoy it now while you are able." She advised. The others looked back and fourth as they argued.  
  
"How am I to find peace? How am I, when you are dying!!" He hissed.  
  
Androthiel stared back at him blankly. No one save Aragorn knew the content of the argument, but it was obvious the younger elf had hit a nerve. With no more talk of this, Androthiel rose, silver garments shimmering like falling rainwater as she stood.  
  
"Good night to you all Gentlemen." She said softly in the common tongue as she walked away. As she moved she looked at Legolas out of the corner of her eye. Glistening green pools cutting through the lock of stark white hair as she made to move off to rest.  
  
All it took was that single look for the young elf to realize how truly sorry he was being. He had hurt her and that thought would plague him for the rest of that night.  
  
_TBC...  
  
(Please Read Review)_


End file.
